Through Other People's Eyes
by Steph5
Summary: Sometimes you have to look in unlikely places for friendship. A Lane story with some LaneDave elements..
1. Default Chapter

Through Other People's Eyes 

Part 1

By Steph

Dedicated to my buds Iris and Jamie.

There are only so many things you can say in ten minutes. Especially if you're an eighteen-year-old girl on the phone with your boyfriend. Especially when said boyfriend is on the other side of the country in Whittier, California and to you it might as well be Mars.

Lane rediscovered this every week when the excitement and anticipation of talking to Dave was tempered by her mother setting an egg timer and placing it wordlessly in front of her. Every syllable, every breath, every sigh took away precious time.

Dave and Lane, due to time constraints, stuck to the most banal of topics. Starting a deep discussion would end prematurely and only leave them frustrated. And Lane's mother tended to eavesdrop, arms folded, always setting a spare egg timer, just in case the other one malfunctioned and allowed Lane an extra few seconds of hearing Dave's voice.

No, they only discussed class schedules and roommates. The merits of a California winter versus a Connecticut winter. California drivers versus Connecticut drivers. Pizza. Music. Always music.

She talked fast, a sign that she had spent too many of her formative years around Rory and Lorelai. They had begun to speak in abbreviations and code. She hated the arrangement, but put up with it, because it was better than nothing. 

Lane was crowing over a vintage album she had found purely by luck when she heard a voice in the background. A female voice.

"Dave, if we're going to go, we have to go now," the voice said. 

"Lane, I have to go," he said apologetically. "Talk to you next Thursday."

"Who was that?" she asked in what she hoped was a neutral voice.

"Oh it's just Aimee," he said dismissively. "I'll talk to you next week."

Lane wanted to ask if he was being dismissive of Aimee or of herself. But she wasted too many seconds thinking what to ask next.

The timer buzzed and her mother hovered.

Lane obediently hung up.

At times like this, Lane used to talk to Rory. But Rory was different. Rory's conversations were peppered with stories about Paris and Janet and Marty and Tana and Naked Guy…or maybe Marty was the Naked Guy? Lane had no idea. Except for her all-too-brief encounter with Paris at someone's party years ago, Lane knew none of these people. And despite Rory's constant reminders ("Janet is the one who's always exercising" "Tana is the one who…well she's nice, but a little socially awkward"), they meant nothing to Lane.

Lane didn't mention Dave to Rory. She saw no point to it. She mentioned it to Lorelai on Friday after the band's rehearsal. The band had gone home and Lane had an hour before she was expected for dinner. After hearing about Mrs. Kim's planned menu of tofu and well…more tofu, Lorelai had sat Lane down with a Hot Pocket and a bowl of chocolate-covered marshmallows.

"I wonder who this Aimee is," Lane said through a mouthful of ham and cheese. 

"She could just be his friend. Or a study partner," Lorelai had offered encouragingly.

"Yeah," Lane said. "Or his California girlfriend, all tanned and blonde."

"You can ask him who she is."

"I guess," Lane said. She was feeling down again. She ate another marshmallow without interest. 

"I wish there was more I could do," Lorelai said.

"I wish that Rory was around," Lane admitted. 

"You can call her here," Lorelai said.

"I know," Lane said, but it wasn't the same. Rory would listen halfheartedly and then be interrupted by someone knocking on the door, by someone else's crisis. It had happened before.

"Do you have any friends at your school you can talk to?" Lorelai asked. "I mean, I know I'm the coolest person around, but maybe someone your own age might be better with advice."

"Maybe," Lane said. She pulled apart a marshmallow and instantly wished she hadn't. The white, soft insides reminded her of tofu.

The funny thing was that Lane did have people at her new school. She was popular. 

She hadn't been popular at Stars Hollow High School and despite a very short-lived (what _had _she been thinking?) stint on the cheerleading squad, went four years virtually unnoticed. She had some friends, mostly other band members, but was never a social butterfly.

And now at college, at the small, religious college, she was popular. The first few disorienting, hectic days she had gravitated toward girls like Julie and Sunny, girls who were quiet, devout and respectful. She sat with them at lunch and in class and together they reread the books of rules and tried to just get through the day.

And very, very gradually, she began to hang out with other people. Word spread that Lane played drums in a band, that she was the only girl in the band, and that made her a celebrity. She found herself sitting with and being accepted by girls like Kristen and Dora, girls who got in trouble for dress code violations and for speaking out of turn. 

She didn't go as far as her new friends, hadn't been disciplined yet, but felt her attitude shifting slightly. She was an appreciative audience for their acts, but was not an active participant and she probably would never be. She still feared her mother, the teachers. She didn't have a death wish.

But she had no trouble finding partners for class projects, fellow students to discuss obscure music with. One girl named Erin, who never talked to anyone, had shyly confessed her crush on Dave Grohl. 

She would like to talk to any of these girls about Dave, about her fears that he's dating some California beach bunny who may already have implants and a nose job, but didn't. These new friends didn't know Dave, didn't know Lane's mother and how difficult she made life. Lane didn't think they'd understand.

She didn't say anything to anyone and patiently waited for the next Thursday to come around. It was the only time of the week she was allowed to call him.

"You should get a job," Dora remarked casually to Lane, one day during a religious studies class. 

Lane was coveting Dora's new blouse, an off-the-shoulder shimmering purple top that Dora was wearing under her button-up regulation cardigan. Dora worked as a waitress at a nearby restaurant on weekends and after school, in hopes of saving up for an apartment. She and Kristen, who worked at an art-supply store, were going to move in together as soon as they saved up. Dora and Kristen had asked Lane if she wanted to move in as well. Lane had nixed the idea immediately.

"I can't," she said. "My mother would hate it."

"You're eighteen," they had reminded her. "You don't have to live with her. We'll get a small place and split the rent three ways. Think about it."

Dora brought up the apartment again that day. "We aren't ready to move yet. It will still be awhile before we can afford it--maybe next year. But we do have some places in mind. Maybe a one and a half bedroom. Kris and I could share the larger room and you could have the smaller one. It's still open for debate. Just think about it. Think of the freedom. You could eat what you wanted, no more tofu if you didn't want it…you could have Dave over whenever he was in town."

The thought of having her own apartment, having her own room, where Dave could stay, seemed so foreign…so decadent. She and Dave had done nothing more than kiss and even thinking of doing more made her feel both stressed and giddy at the same time.

And then she remembered the mysterious Aimee and her mood sunk.

It was almost Thursday.

A few months ago, Lane had begged her mother to allow her to find a job. After several days of creeping around the house nervously waiting for a decision, Mrs. Kim had given Lane a sheet of acceptable places of employment. Church, a religious bookstore, babysitting…

The diner.

After clarifying with her mother that she in fact meant Luke's Diner, Lane had debated asking Luke for a job. She didn't think he would hire her. She had never seen anybody her age working there. Jess didn't count, because he was related to Luke. Caesar had been there almost as long as 

Luke had. 

But then he hired Brennan, who didn't even wash his hands. And Brennan had been fired.

If he hired Brennan, maybe he'd hire her.

Lane knew how to wash her hands.

This could work.

The next day she put on her most professional outfit, a plain gray skirt and pressed white blouse. She had a resume (work experience tragically limited to serving tofu-related products with her mother to unsuspecting consumers--but foodservice was foodservice) as well as letters of recommendation from Lorelai and Sookie. She walked into the diner.

It was a madhouse and it took her a second to locate Luke. He was walking quickly, balancing plates full of food. She followed him around like a puppy, circling the diner twice, before he noticed her.

"Why are you following me?" he asked.

She took a breath, reminding herself that she had known Luke since she was about five, and said, "If you're still looking for someone, I want to work here. I know this place, I know everyone who comes in, I'm professional and dependable and hygienic…" 

"Does your mom know you're here?" he asked.

"Yes and she approved it which may or may not be a compliment. Anyway, I have a resume here as well as letters of recommendation."

He wiped his hands quickly on his jeans and took the papers from her. He skimmed them.

She continued talking. "I only expect minimum wage and I can work every night after school except Bible Study night. I can also work weekends. I sometimes have tests or church or band practice and performances, but…"

Luke looked up at her. "Can you work eighteen hours a week? Eight hours during the week and ten during the weekend?"

"If there's a night where I can't, can I work more on the weekend?" she asked.

He nodded. "I can't pay much…minimum plus shared tips to start out. Plus food."

Food. An added bonus. No more tofu. 

"Okay," she said happily. "I can start tomorrow."

"Four?" he asked. "We can work out a schedule and you can fill out the paperwork."

"Thank you," she said. "So I'm hired?"

"Sure," he said. 

She grinned and walked out to leave before she heard him call her name. She turned to him.

"Don't wear that tomorrow," he said. "Jeans. Casual."

She nodded, elated. She thought of tomorrow.

It was a more pleasant thought than thinking of the day after.

Thursday.

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the nice reviews. I appreciate them so much. 

Through Other People's Eyes 

Part 2

By Steph

It was eleven a.m. on Wednesday morning and Lane wasn't even trying to concentrate on the history lecture. Usually she was a diligent student, more focused than she ever was in high school, and took decent notes, but today she was distracted with thoughts of her new job and of Dave. Mostly of Dave.

She had her notebook open and was working on rewriting a song she had written. It was a slower song, a thinly veiled nod to the Dave situation. Still she was proud of the song and presented it to the band members with all the pride of a new parent showing off a newborn. 

The guys had read over it before Zach handed her song back to her.

"You don't like it?" she asked crushed.

"It sounds like it was written by a girl," Zach said.

"It was written by a girl," Lane said. "I'm a girl." She thought that much was obvious.

"No, Lane," Zach said condescendingly. "You're a drummer."

She rolled her eyes and looked to Brian and Gil for support. Both looked away. 

"What if I rewrote it to sound a little less girly?" Lane asked as a compromise.

"Sure," Zach said. "Just try to sound a little less like Avril and a little more like Brody."

That was harder than she had initially thought. The professor droned on about the Civil War in a voice that made Ben Stein's sound animated. She looked over at Kristen next to her. Kristen was doodling illustrations for the cover of her unfinished saga, an epic romantic novel involving "death, disease and evil." She described it to anyone who would listen as "'_Romeo and Juliet_' meets '_28 Days Later.'"_

When the class was over, Kristen looked up from her doodles and asked, "Did you take notes?"

"No," Lane admitted sheepishly. "I was writing songs."

"Nice," Kristen said. "Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

"Working. I got a job. At a diner."

Kristen grinned. "A diner? How noir."

"Not really. It's more of a family place."

"So it's not full of sad sacks and women of questionable virtue? It's not like the Edward Hopper painting?"

Lane laughed. "Not quite."

"It'll be great to earn your own money. Start saving for the apartment," Kristen said.

"I haven't said yes to that," Lane pointed out.

"You will," Kristen said. "Dora and I are counting on it."

After school, Lane had just enough time to change into jeans and a sweater and run to Luke's. She filled out her forms and got a pamphlet about foodservice regulations. Luke gave her a quick tour, went over some basic rules (hand washing was emphasized much to Lane's amusement) and gave her the choice of either wearing a hairnet or pinning her long hair into a bun. A backward baseball cap was not given as an option.

"That's it?" Lane asked surprised. The orientation lasted a grand total of forty minutes.

"That's it," Luke said. "You'll learn more from actually working than from anything I would say. Here's an order pad and a pencil. Go wait on that couple who came in while we were talking."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "What if they ask something I don't know?"

"I'll just be in back," he promised.

"But what if there's a problem? What if I'm rude? Not that I'm thinking I'll be rude…I'm not generally a rude person…"

Luke smiled a half-smile and gestured to the couple. "Don't worry. You'll learn more this way."

She did fine with the patient older couple. She relaxed and realized that Luke was right. She was learning.

She got home from Luke's, tired, sore and full (cheeseburger and fries--definitely a perk of the job). Her mother was in the kitchen, standing over a covered pot of…something. The smell was not appetizing.

"How was your job?" Lane's mother asked. 

"Good, Mama," Lane said. "I'm sorry, but I must excuse myself to finish my homework. I have a history test tomorrow." Lane learned that she got into less arguments with her mother if she spoke politely. 

"First we will sit down for dinner," Lane's mother said. 

"I'm sorry, Mama, but I ate at the diner. I get food from Luke's as part of my payment for the work I do."

"Very well," her mother said, sounding less-than-happy with this new arrangement. "Go upstairs to study. No phone calls."

"Okay," Lane said. She went up to her room and pulled out her history text book. 

She should've taken notes.

"This is really good," Dora remarked the next day at lunch. She was looking over Lane's song lyrics. Dora was an editor-in-training and had the unfortunate and time-consuming task of editing Kristen's gothic masterpiece. Kristen was a notoriously bad speller. Lane's short song was a breeze comparatively.

"Really?" Lane asked doubtfully. "It doesn't suck?"

"It doesn't suck," Dora said. "Is this about you and Dave? Because it's a depressing song. Are you two having problems?"

Lane felt uncomfortable. "No, not really. It's just about love and relationships in general."

"That's good to hear," Dora said kindly.

Lane nodded and changed the subject. She didn't want to talk about Dave anymore.

Tonight she was going to ask him about Aimee.

Tonight they might be breaking up.

"So you weren't scared off," Luke remarked as she walked behind the counter.

"Nope," Lane said. "It's empty today."

"Yep," he said noncommittally. 

"What should I do?" Lane asked him. 

"Do you know how to cut carrots?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said. 

"I was going to make some vegetable soup soon. It'll be a big help."

"Sure," she said. "Whatever I can do to help." And whatever she could do to keep her mind off of things.

She started chopping vegetables. Her mind traveled to Dave. He had a job too, working at a pizza place in the Whitwood Mall. He said it was usually deserted there, but the pizza was good. She wondered if she would tell him about her new job. She wondered if he would care. She wondered if he was using his extra income to take Aimee on fancy dates--dates that he wasn't permitted to take Lane on.

She continued to cut, distracted, and didn't look down until she felt pain. She looked down and realized that she managed to nick her finger. She quickly surveyed the damage. Her finger was bleeding a little, but the carrots remained unsullied. She walked into the kitchen where Luke was cooking French fries.

"Luke?" she said. 

"What?" he asked, not unfriendly. He kept his eyes on the fries.

"I was cutting the carrots and accidentally got my finger instead."

That got his attention. He looked over at her and told Cesar to watch the fries. They walked in back to the first-aid kit.

He watched as she applied disinfectant and put on a Band-Aid. "Here," he said handing her a paper. "This says that you were injured and that I provided you with first-aid supplies."

She signed the sheet. "Is this so I won't sue you?"

"Yes," he said. "Don't handle any food directly while wearing the Band-Aid. Concentrate on taking orders."

"Okay," she said. "I guess this means I'm out of the running for 'Employee of the Month.'"

He shrugged. "I still burn myself occasionally. It's one of the hazards of working in this business."

"Okay," she repeated. "I hope I won't have to sit out of this week's band practice."

"What do you play?" Luke asked.

"Drums," she said.

Luke nodded. "I was guitar."

"You were in a band?" Lane asked surprised.

"When I was a little younger than you. It wasn't really a band. Just a bunch of stupid kids who thought they could play."

"Did your band have a name?" Lane asked curiously.

He didn't say anything and looked at the ceiling. Finally he looked at her and said, "I better get back out front."

"What was your band's name?" 

He rubbed the side of his cheek and finally said. "Paranoid Monkey."

Lane cracked up. "That's a great name." She was still giggling when he told her that she should go out in front. 

Later that afternoon, she looked over at Luke. Paranoid Monkey. 

She was going to love working here.

"Hello," a voice said.

Lane looked at the egg timer. How much time did it take to get your heartbroken? "Is Dave there?" 

"Nope, he's out."

Out. He wasn't there for their regular Thursday night conversation. Her heart sank. "Oh," she finally said, dejected.

"Who's this?" he asked. The connection was fuzzy so he had to repeat himself.

"It's Lane," she said. Dave's girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend?

"Jane?" the guy asked.

"Lane," she said. "My first name is Lane. L-A-N-E." Just in case, he got the wrong idea and wrote down that Jane Lane called. Suddenly she was a character on "Daria."

"Okay," the guy said. "I'll let Dave know that Lane called."

"Thanks," Lane said. And on a hunch, she asked. "Is he with Aimee?"

"I'm not sure," the guy said. "But it's always a possibility."

"Thanks," she repeated and hung up.

She had six minutes to spare.

She told her mother she needed to take a walk. But that wasn't what she needed. She needed to know what was going on. She needed a comforting voice.

She needed her best friend.

Lorelai let her in, made her some instant cocoa and handed her the cordless phone. Lane dialed.

"Hello?"

There were few things as comforting as a familiar voice, even if you weren't sure how things stood with the friendship.

"Rory," Lane said, her voice thick with tears she would shed later that night. "I think Dave and I may be breaking up." 

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Through Other People's Eyes

by Steph

Part 3

"Are you okay?" Dora asked Lane that Friday at lunch. She sounded concerned.

"Yeah," Lane lied. In fact, she was not okay. She and Dave were breaking up. She could feel it. 

"What are you listening to?" Dora asked. 

"Mad World," Lane replied unfastening her Walkman and turning the volume up. Dora leaned in close so she could hear.

"That's uplifting," Dora said sarcastically. "What's it from?"

"Donnie Darko," Lane answered. "The song's a remake, but it's probably where you know it from."

"Oh yeah," Dora said. "I kind of recognize it. That movie was all kinds of messed up."

Lane only nodded and put the Walkman in her backpack. She liked Dora a lot, considered her one of her best friends at school, but didn't want to talk. She wanted to listen to her depressing music, sleepwalk through her afternoon classes and go to work. She absently picked at her Band-Aid. 

"You know you can tell me what's been bothering you," Dora said quietly. Despite the fact that she was constantly being reprimanded for dress code violations and talked back to teachers when she felt like it, she had a warm, maternal quality that Lane often appreciated. Today it only made her want to weep.

"I'm serious," Dora said. "Kristen said you seemed really out of it and sad during class. We're both concerned. You can talk to us. Is it your mom?" Lane occasionally told Mrs. Kim stories, much to Kristen and Dora's amusement. Only the funnier ones; she didn't want to scar her new friends.

"No," she said. "My mom's the same." She felt herself crumbling under Dora's kind gaze. She wasn't used to this kind of attention and it made her uncomfortable. 

Dora tried one last time. "Is it Dave?"

And that's all it took. Lane nodded and said softly, "I think he has a new girlfriend in California. We're probably going to break up soon." Against her will, her eyes stung with a few tears. She quickly blinked them away.

"Oh, Lane, I'm so sorry," Dora said sympathetically.

"Thanks," Lane said. Then to change the subject she quickly asked, "Where's Kristen?"

"Right over there. Looks like she bought lunch." Dora waved her over.

Kristen plopped down next to the two of them. "Feeling better, Lane?"

"No," Lane responded honestly.

"Dave may have another girlfriend," Dora said. 

"Bastard," Kristen said shaking her head. "Shall we plan a Christmas road trip to California and break his scrawny little legs?"

Lane laughed and wiped her eyes. "He's not scrawny."

"We saw your prom pictures. He's scrawny." 

"That's not nice," Dora said to Kristen. She turned to Lane. "You two looked very nice in those prom pictures."

"I didn't go to prom," Kristen volunteered. "My boyfriend came out a week before prom and decided he didn't want to go."

"Really?" Dora asked. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Kristen said. "I still talk to him occasionally. But enough about that, what are you two doing tonight?"

"Working," Lane said. "Then going home."

"There's a party tonight. Christa's place on Birch. It supposed to be great. We all should go."

"Sounds good," Dora said. "She throws really fun parties. Up for it, Lane?"

"I can't," Lane replied automatically. "My mom wouldn't let me." It was her common refrain. She might as well have it tattooed on her forehead in case someone forgot.

"Lane, you're eighteen," Kristen said. "And it's a Friday night. She doesn't expect you to sit at home every weekend, does she?"

"Even if I could go, I don't have a car."

"I have a car," Dora said. "Kris has a car. Either one of us could pick you up or we can all go together."

"You should just ask her," Kristen said. "She may surprise you."

"She won't. Trust me."

When it was time for afternoon classes, the three of them walked toward the academic buildings. 

Before they entered their respective classes, Kristen handed Lane a folder. "The newly-edited chapter seven of the saga. A chapter that's all about death. It'll really cheer you up."

Lane smiled in spite of herself. "Thanks."

"And give either one of us a call if you change your mind about tonight. Christa's parties are always a blast."

Even though she knew there was no way in hell she'd be able to go, Lane nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

It was slow again at Luke's ("Damn Taylor and his Christmas festivals," Luke had grumbled) and after refilling ketchup containers and napkin canisters, she found Kristen's story and began to read, careful to keep looking toward the door in case someone else arrived. 

__

"Drake, where were you?" Simone asked worriedly. "I told you to come straight here." It was only at that moment that Simone noticed how pale and distracted he looked. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Where were you?"

After a few seconds of tense silence, Drake said, "I saw Millie Jones and she stopped to talk."

"Millie Jones?" Simone asked, her voice breaking. "Oh, Drake, you know it wasn't Millie Jones. Millie's been dead for years. Her husband murdered her. You know that."

"It was her. She stopped me and told me that she missed all of us. And she asked about you and your family. And she told me---"

"What?" Simone asked, her voice unnaturally high. "What did Millie Jones tell you?"

"She told me that as long as your mother was alive, she would never let us be together."

"No, that's wrong. She's coming around."

"Millie said that if I truly loved you, I'd have to get rid of your mother."

Simone stepped away from him in shock. "No, Millie would never say that. She was like a sister to me. She loved my mother."

"She told me what to do to your mother. Where to find her, what to use."

"What are you saying?" Simone asked. She couldn't' believe that what he was saying was true.

"Millie was always smart. She was right. And I followed her instructions to a tee."

"No," she said. It was then she noticed the spot on his shirt. Blood. She had been seeing that a lot lately.

"Now there's nothing to stop me from marrying you, Simone," Drake said. "No one to stop. If anyone tries, I'll do the same thing that I did to your mother, the same thing Millie did to me…"

"What did she do to you?" Simone said, even though she knew.

He didn't answer only came frighteningly close…

"What are you reading?" Luke asked her.

She looked down, as embarrassed as if she had been caught with soft core porn. "A story my friend Kristen wrote." 

"It's pretty dead here. I can show you how to make French fries if you want."

She tried to smile and sound excited as she said. "Okay."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's about all I can offer."

She wondered if there was an aura of depression about her. She didn't usually believe in things like auras. People in California believed in auras. Girls named Aimee who lived in California believed in auras. "Thanks," she said in what she hoped was a convincing voice. "I want to learn."

"It's not rocket science," he said. He shook out the frozen fries into the basket. "Then they go into the oil. Wait a little bit. Just look at them. Wait till they get kind of dark…not too dark…well you know what done fries look like."

She nodded. "Do you ever fry other things? Like Oreos or candy bars? You know to mix things up a little?"

He looked disgusted. "No, certain people wanted me to add crap like that to the menu, but I refused." 

She went back to the front of the diner when the bell tinkled. A blond woman in a suit sat down at the counter. Nicole.

"Hi, Nicole," Lane said to her. "What can I get for you?"

"Hey Lane," she said pleasantly. "A burger's good. It's pretty dead, here, huh?"

"Yep. Luke was showing me how to work the fryer."

Nicole smiled. "That's just how we spent our second date."

"Really?" Lane asked wrinkling her nose. 

"No, I'm kidding," Nicole said. "Speaking of dates, why does Luke have you working here on a Friday night? Do you want me to talk to him for you?"

"No," Lane said, not wanting to get in trouble or to get Luke in trouble. "It's okay. I don't have any plans…no dates. In fact…" No, she was not going to start crying about her problems.

"In fact what?" Nicole asked curiously. "I'm interested. And as a lawyer and as a wife, I would like to know if Luke is breaking any labor laws."

Lane flushed, embarrassed. "No, it's just my boyfriend is in California so even if I wasn't working, I wouldn't be doing anything other than reading and listening to music at home. Although I was invited to a party. I won't be allowed to go though."

"Oh," Nicole said excitedly. "My best friend lives in Sacramento. Where does your boyfriend live?"

Who knew if he still was her boyfriend. "He's in Whittier. He goes to Whittier College."

"Like Nixon," Nicole said. 

"Yes," Lane said.

"You should go out to California," Nicole said. She pulled her coat tighter around her body. "I bet it's a lot warmer."

"Except I might be interfering with him and his new girlfriend," Lane said before she could stop herself. She was immediately sorry. She hated when she couldn't control her mouth. 

"I'm sorry, Lane," Nicole said immediately. 

Better to play it off like she hadn't said anything. "Let me get that burger for you. Fries?" 

"Sure," Nicole said. "Thanks."

Later that shift, Luke walked up to Lane. "Look it's empty and it's a Friday night. You can leave a little earlier."

"I'll stay," Lane said.

"Nicole told me what you told her," he said, his voice quieter. "Go home. You can come in earlier tomorrow if you want."

She reluctantly agreed. If she didn't leave, she might start crying again. And she really didn't want that.

She walked home, Kristen's story hugged tight to her chest. Kristen. She immediately thought of the party and instantly, inexplicably had a strong desire to go. Kristen and Dora were right. She was eighteen; she shouldn't spend every Friday night alone with a book. It wasn't healthy.

In the olden days, she would have come up with an elaborate plan, involving sympathetic neighbors and decoys. She would have made up important exams, sickly friends, cultural or religious events that would benefit her well-being. 

But tonight she was emotionally drained and wasn't thinking enough for complex plots. She walked into her house and said to her mother. "I'm going out tonight."

"Where?" Her mother asked immediately. "Who with?"

"My friends from school. We're going to hang out at another friend's house."

"Party," Mrs. Kim spat out as if it were poison. "No party."

"I'm eighteen," Lane said. "I spent every night of the week studying and working. I deserve this."

"You deserve boys? And drugs? You'll stay home."

Lane knew she should be fighting her mother more on this, but she didn't. She didn't have the energy. She only said quietly, "Fine." 

She began the walk up the stairs to her bedroom. She could feel her mother's eyes on her; her mother wasn't used to instant submission. 

Lane turned around and said softly. "I won't go tonight, Mama, but you're wrong. I do deserve to be with my friends."

Lane stayed in her room all night and her mother didn't ask Lane to come down.

Dave had called earlier that day, apologizing for not calling yesterday, blaming finals.

Lane fell asleep without getting that message.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Through Other People's Eyes

by Steph

Part 4

Lane was not in a good mood.

In her pocket was the folded up note that she had pulled off the refrigerator this morning. A quick, concise telephone message written by her mother. Apparently Dave had called yesterday and told her mother that he was busy with finals and was sorry he missed their telephone call. 

"What does that mean?" Lane had asked Dora over the phone. She used to call Rory in situations like these. This time, she had dialed Dora's number without thinking. 

"It is the end of the semester," Dora replied. "He probably does have finals. _We_ have finals."

"I know," Lane said. She glanced at the pile of books on her desk. She heard her mother's car pull up and whispered quickly, "I have to go. My mother is here."

"Are we still on for today?" Dora asked, whispering as well, even though there was no reason for it.

"Yep. Got to go. Bye." She quickly hung up the phone. 

She opened up her history textbook and uncapped a highlighter, but quickly found her mind wandering again. Was it a good sign that Dave was acknowledging their standing Thursday phone date? She could look at it that way. 

Or maybe Dave saw her as an obligation; to him, calling her could be as enjoyable to him as brushing his teeth or washing his underwear. And he could be lying. He could have been studying for finals on Thursday night like he said or he could have been in bed with Aimee.

The thought of Dave being in bed with anyone made her feel ill. But it was possible. Dave could be bedding a different girl every night. College changed people. 

College had changed her. 

Her mother banging pots and muttering in Korean brought her back from her thoughts. She went back to studying. She didn't know it at the time, but while she had been picturing the worst, she had been absentmindedly tapping her chin with the uncapped highlighter. She wouldn't discover the bright pink marks on her chin until she looked into the mirror while she was getting ready for work.

"Yes," she told Luke as soon as she saw him. "I was a spaz earlier today and my chin is pink."

"I didn't say a word," he said. "Have you tried washing it?"

"Yes," she said, slightly irritated. "Soap and water did nothing. I didn't have any paint thinner on me or I would've tried that." Then she realized that she was getting a little lippy with her employer when she was really annoyed with herself for her unexpected art project, annoyed at her mother for not giving her Dave's message sooner and annoyed at Dave for not mentioning in his phone message whether he was sleeping with Aimee or not. That could have cleared up a lot of confusion.

"Sorry," she said to Luke. "I'm just in a bad mood. Does it look that bad?"

He shrugged. "Not that bad. It's noticeable though. Nosy people will ask you about it."

"I guess you wouldn't really approve if I turned it into a picture. You know, make my face a whole canvas. Color pink and purple unicorns and stars. Would that be too much?."

"Except that would look too much like face painting and Taylor would see and ask me to set up a face painting booth up for kids and when I said no, he would just go ahead and set up a booth himself. Probably right in front of the diner."

"I see your point," Lane said. "I guess I'm stuck with this blotch then."

"You can always fill it in a little. Make a goatee," Luke suggested.

"Maybe next time," she said. She grabbed an order pad off the counter and started work.

Lane was getting near the end of her shift. It was busier than it had been earlier that week, but she didn't mind it. Several people remarked on her neon pink. She just smiled politely. She was bringing Kirk an order of fries when the bell over the door tinkled. Lane looked up. Lorelai and Rory.

"Hi guys," Lane said enthusiastically. 

"So you really are working here," Rory said looking around the diner.

"I told you I was," Lane said. "Sit down, guys."

"So, Lane, are you off for Christmas?" Lorelai asked.

"Next week's a half-week and then I'm off," Lane said. "You're off?" she asked Rory.

"I'm off," Rory said. "God, those finals were hard."

"I'm sure you did wonderfully," Lorelai said. "You always do."

For the millionth time in her life, Lane wondered what it would be like to have a mother who just assumed you did everything perfectly. She couldn't even imagine it. 

"We should hang out," Lane said to Rory. Even though they hadn't seen each other in a month and hardly ever talked on the phone anymore (except for last week when Lane found out about Dave), she still wanted to hang out with Rory. 

"I'm going to be really busy this vacation," Rory said. "I'm going on a mini-vacation with my grandparents, and I'm going to visit my dad for a few days, and Mom and I are doing several bad movie/disgusting junk food nights and I also have to catch up on my reading…"

"Oh okay," Lane said surprised. 

"I'm sure you'll have some free time," Lorelai said to Rory. 

"Maybe," Rory said doubtfully.

"Well, what can I get you two?" Lane asked smiling despite feeling a little confused and hurt.

"Cheeseburgers, fries…the usual," Lorelai said brightly, overcompensating perhaps for Rory. 

"Thanks a lot, Lane."

"No problem."

Lane walked back into the kitchen to pin up the order. She and Cesar talked about holiday plans while she waited for fries. Luke walked in back.

"Lane, some friends of yours are here," he said. "They specifically wanted you to wait on them."

"Thanks, Luke," she said. Dora and Kristen must have been early. She took some finished plates and walked back out to the front.

Dora and Kristen sat in the booth next to Lorelai and Rory. Lane couldn't help but smile when she saw them. Dora was wearing a cropped sweater with "Dora the Explorer" on it and leather pants. Kristen's normally pale blonde hair was streaked purple.

"You're early," Lane said. She looked at Kristen. "Nice hair."

"Thanks. Nice chin. I was inspired by the picture you showed me. Your purple hair looked so much better than mine. This is too dark with my hair."

"I like it," Dora said. "It is washable, right?"

"Yes, Mom," Kristen said. "My hair will be plain blonde come Monday."

"I'm not off for another half an hour," Lane said. 

"That's okay," Kristen said picking up a menu. "We wanted to see where you worked."

"Are you going to order anything ?" Lane asked. "I don't think Luke'll be too thrilled about people occupying tables without eating."

"Luke's the guy with the cap and the flannel?" Kristen asked. 

Lane nodded. "Yep, that's my boss."

"Dora thought he was incredibly hot," Kristen confided.

"Kris!" Dora screeched. 

"Well you did. But you tend to like older guys."

Lane laughed. "I can pass along the message if you want me to."

Kristen giggled. "Is he single? I'm asking for Dora's sake, of course." Dora looked mortified, but still interested in the answer.

"Well," Lane said thinking. "He's kind of dating the woman he's married to. It's kind of confusing. I'll explain when we go shopping. So what do you guys want?"

"A chocolate shake," Kristen said. 

"Me too and some onion rings to share," Dora said. 

"Coming right up," Lane said. She sang under her breath "Dora likes Luke."

"Stop," Dora said. Lane took pity on her and walked away from their table.

"Lane," Lorelai called. 

"Yes?" she asked. "More soda?"

"No," Lorelai said. She looked over at Dora and Kristen. "Who are they?"

"Those are my friends from school," Lane said.

"I want to meet them," Lorelai said jumping up from her seat. Rory followed. 

"Hi," Lorelai said brightly. "I'm Lorelai and this is Rory. Rory and Lane grew up together."

Kristen merely nodded in their direction, but Dora said in a friendly voice. "Hi, I'm Dora and this is Kristen."

"Nice to meet you," Lorelai said. "So what are you guys up to?"

"We're going Christmas shopping once I'm off," Lane volunteered.

"Oh that sounds like fun," Lorelai said. "I bet there are a lot of sales." She looked pointedly at Lane and then at Rory. Back at Lane and then back at Rory. Lane wasn't stupid; she knew what Lorelai was getting at.

Lane must've been an awful friend, because she didn't want to invite Rory.

Lane was saved by the arrival of an elderly couple. She continued working. When her shift was over, she noticed that Lorelai and Rory had left. She almost felt relieved.

"Let's go," Lane said. The three of them walked out of the diner. Kristen and Dora were both grinning.

"Why are you smiling?" Lane asked.

"I'm glad it's just the three of us," Dora said. She walked ahead to get the car.

"And why are you smiling?" Lane asked Kristen.

Kristen grinned mischievously. "I wrote down Dora's phone number on our receipt."

The next few days went fairly well for Lane. She was distracted by finals, by Christmas, by work. She managed to put the Dave situation out of her mind for a little bit and have some fun. 

She came into work the last day of finals, giddy. She pinned up her hair.

"Lane," Luke said. "Why don't you come in back with me for a second? We need to talk."

He sounded serious. And she felt her stomach turn over. She was getting fired.

"Take a seat," Luke said. He absentmindedly fiddled with his baseball cap.

"You're firing me," she said plainly. "I understand."

"No," he said immediately. "But we do need to talk. Your mother came to see me today."

That was almost worse than getting fired. "What did she say?" With her mother, it could be anything.

"She wants me to cut back your hours."

"No," Lane said immediately. Less hours meant less money. Less money meant less freedom. And Lane didn't have any freedom to spare. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her it was up to you," Luke said.

Lane felt like hugging him. "Thanks for telling me." She stood up. "Is there anything else or can I start work?"

"No, you can go," Luke said. 

She nodded and began to form a plan.

Lane was able to make a compromise with her mother. She would work all day shifts during vacation, but be home for meals. She would start attending Bible studies. She would be able to keep working as many hours…they'd just be more scattered. It wasn't a perfect arrangement, but it would work for now.

She was getting better at bargaining. 

That skill would come in handy very soon.

The first day of vacation, she awoke to the doorbell ringing. She waited for her mother to get the door. She didn't. The door rang again. Probably a customer looking to do some last minute Christmas shopping. She put on her slippers and walked downstairs. It was eight-thirty in the morning.

"Sorry," she said as she opened the door. "You're going have to wait for half an hour."

Dave smiled at her. "Well, what am I supposed to do for half an hour?"

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Through Other People's Eyes

Part 5

By Steph (awriter78@hotmail.com)

When Dave first left for Whittier College, Lane moped. She acted like the stereotypical teenage girl and wrote sappy love songs that were beneath her. She wrote long letters to him and waited anxiously for the mail. She cherished what little time she had to talk to him on the phone. 

And in those last few weeks when she had begun to wonder about him and Aimee and she didn't know what she was feeling, she only wanted to talk to him.

Now he was standing in front of her and she was speechless. 

He stood expectantly, looking surprised at her lack of response. "Uh, Merry Christmas?" he asked hopefully.

That did it. She walked up to him and hugged him. "What are you doing here?"

He hugged her back. "I don't care what anybody says. It just isn't Christmas when it's 65 degrees outside. My mom sent me a plane ticket and now I'm here."

"You're here," she said. Then she squealed. "You're here."

"That's more of the reaction I was hoping for," he said easily. "What are you doing today? You don't have school, do you?"

"No," she said. "But I'm working. All day. I start in an hour."

"Tell you what," Dave said. "I'll walk with you to work and then go hang out with the guys. Give me a call when you're on break and we'll eat lunch together. Then I'll hang out with the family and I'll come get you when you're off work."

"Sounds great," she said. "I need to get dressed and ready. Can you wait outside?"

"Why?" he asked. "Oh right, if your mom came in and I was all by myself…"

"Not a pretty situation," she said. 

"Is she here?" Dave asked.

"My mom? No, I don't know where she is."

Dave leaned down and kissed her. She closed her eyes. She could do this all day. Too quickly, she stopped the kiss. "I have to get ready."

"Right," Dave said. "I'll be outside."

"Hungry?" Lane asked Dave as they opened the door to the diner.

"Nah, I had some breakfast," he said. "But I'll come by for lunch. What time?"

"I'll take a break about two," she said.

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you then."

Luke walked up to them. "Lane, will you do me a favor and remind Taylor that I'm not putting any decorations up? Maybe he'll listen to you more than me. I just own the damned place."

"Sure," she said. Then she motioned to Dave. "Luke, this is my boyfriend Dave. Dave, this is my boss Luke."

Dave stuck out his hand. Luke didn't take it at first. He looked him over with narrowed eyes. Lane looked Dave over too, trying to see what Luke was seeing. Lane just saw her boyfriend, looking reassuringly the same as he had when she had last seen him. Same curly hair, maybe cut slightly shorter. Same slight, adorable lispy thing going on with his voice. She could barely stop herself from swooning.

A few uncomfortable seconds later, Luke shook Dave's hand. "Nice to meet you," he said before turning to Lane. "You should get started."

"Okay," she said. She quickly kissed Dave. He waved and left. She went to work.

Lane was standing in back, waiting for Cesar to finish up an order of pancakes, when Luke walked up to her.

"Is that the boyfriend who has another girlfriend?" Luke asked.

Embarrassed, she turned back to face Cesar. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I think…maybe, but…"

"If he does," Luke said moving a little to pick up some plates. "Just send him my way. I'll take care of the little punk."

She couldn't help but feel warm with gratitude, even though she knew she'd never take him up on his offer. "Thanks, Luke. I'll keep it in mind."

When she worked full days, Lane got a little break, as well as a lunch. On her break, she called Dora. 

"Should I ask Dave about her?" Lane asked.

"I don't know," Dora said. "On one hand, it would probably ease your mind if you knew one way or the other."

"On the other hand," Lane said. "This will probably be the only time I get to see him until…maybe summer, and I don't want to ruin it."

"Sometimes ignorance is bliss," Dora said.

"I'm not going to say anything for now," Lane decided. "But if the opportunity presents itself…"

"Seize it," Dora said. "Are you at work?"

"Yeah," Lane said. "Do you want me to put Luke on?"

"That's not why I asked," Dora said sounding annoyed. "I was asking, because Kristen's coming over with her new boyfriend and she wants you to meet him."

"This is the one with the tattoos and piercings?" Lane asked.

"That's him," Dora said. "I would hate to stand behind him at a metal detector." 

"I have to work and then Dave and I are going to hang out," Lane said. "I want full details about this guy."

"Sure. And I want full details about the Dave situation. Maybe we can all get together tomorrow."

"Sure," Lane said. "Oh, gotta go." She hung up and went back to work.

The day passed slowly for Lane. She worked quickly, almost at a frantic pace. She couldn't take orders or clear tables fast enough. Several times she found herself tapping her foot impatiently when people took their time. A few people noticed.

"What's going on?" Lorelai asked. "You seem jumpy. Have you looked into decaf? I actually don't believe in the stuff, but some people swear on it."

Lane looked at the wall clock for the hundredth time, "It's just that Dave's here and we're going to hang out once my shift is over."

"When's that?"

"Four hours," Lane said.

"We can't have this," Lorelai said. "Luke!" she called.

He frowned but walked over to them. "What?" he asked.

"Are you aware that Lane's boyfriend is in town?"

"Skinny kid," Luke said. "Yeah, I met him today. Why?"

"Maybe you can cut back Lane's hours tonight so she can go be with the love of her life," Lorelai suggested. "Come on, Luke, you remember young love, right? Remember when you couldn't wait for your 'Star Trek' episode to be over, so you could see your girl?"

"No," Lane said immediately. "I need the hours. I need the money. But thanks." She grabbed her order pad and practically ran to the next table.

Three hours and fifty-six minutes to go. She could do this.

"So what did you want to do?" Dave asked as he picked her up from work.

"I don't know. We can just hang out," Lane said. Dave put his arm around her and they walked out.

After walking around town a few times, they ended up back at her place.

"Does this mean that I have to go home?" Dave asked. "It's still early."

"No, let me just check in with my mom again," she said.

Lane opened the door. "Mama," she called. "Look who's back for vacation."

Mrs. Kim entered the front room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "What is it, Lane?" Then she noticed Dave. "David," she said primly.

"Hello, Mrs. Kim," he said formally. "How are you doing?"

"Well, thank you. How are your studies?"

"Fine," Dave said somewhat awkwardly.

"No drugs," Lane's mother said, more as a command, than a question.

"Definitely no drugs. No alcohol. No frat parties," Dave said.

Lane's mother nodded, approving. "Fine then."

"Mama, Dave and I are going to sit outside and talk awhile, okay?" Lane asked. It was so demeaning that she had to ask permission, but after the tentative truce they had formed over her work hours, she didn't want to jeopardize anything.

"Fine," Lane's mother said. "Not too late. We have church tomorrow."

"Yes, Mama," Lane said reluctantly. She grabbed Dave's arm and pushed him outside.

Alone again, the two of them sat side-by-side on her porch. They didn't say much at first, only sat holding hands quietly, enjoying each other's company.

Finally Dave touched her shoulder with his other hand. "Lane, there's something I have to tell you."

Lane swallowed. This was it. This was how it would happen. He would tell her he was dating someone else. She steeled herself for his news. "What is it?" she asked.

"I told Zach and Brian about this earlier and they were okay with it."

Well, what would they care if Dave had another girlfriend? Now she was confused. She turned to Dave. "What?"

"I'm in another band," he said. "I started one up with some kids at school. We're not as good as the four of us were, but we're getting it together. I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it before. I should have."

She released a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "No, it's okay."

"Good," he said. He seemed a little more relaxed with that off his chest. He put his arm around her again and she leaned in to his familiar embrace. 

"Do you want to see a picture?" Dave asked. 

"A picture?" she asked. "Of what?"

"Of the band. I have one with me."

"Sure," she said. 

She looked with little interest at the three other people, before turning her attention to her boyfriend's picture. She couldn't help but smile.

"It's cheesy," Dave admitted, "but Aimee's brother is a photographer and he did this publicity shot for free which was nice since there was no way we could pay for it."

Lane froze. "Aimee?"

Dave pointed her out to Lane. "She's one of the singers. She's got a pretty good voice."

Lane looked at Aimee. She was not thin and blond like Lane had pictured. She was tall and curvy, with dark hair and a wide smile.

She was, in a word, gorgeous.

And it was only then that Lane found the courage to ask him the question she had been pondering for weeks. "Are you dating Aimee?"

The front door banged open and Mrs. Kim stuck her head out. "Ten minutes," she barked. She walked back inside.

Lane ignored her mother's interruption and turned to Dave. "Are you?"

"No," Dave said plainly, earnestly. Lane could tell he was telling the truth.

Instead of feeling relieved, she asked another question. "But you like her though. Be honest. It's okay."

Dave didn't answer and looked away. And Lane knew this time what the truth was. Dave wouldn't cheat on her. But he liked this other girl. She felt like crying, but didn't. She didn't say anything.

"Lane, I'm so sorry," Dave said sadly. 

She shook her head. "We have ten minutes left tonight." Tomorrow she would cry, but not now.

He nodded and began stroking her hair. It felt so nice that she couldn't help but lean into him again.

The lights flickered on and off a couple of times. A surge of impatience ran through Lane. "I can't believe this," she seethed. "I can't even have a few minutes of being happy."

Dave didn't say anything, but continued to stroke her hair. He pulled her closer and even though she knew this comfort, this couple-ness was fleeting, she welcomed it all the same.

"I can't do this anymore," she said softly. "I'm eighteen. I'm an adult."

He placed a kiss on the top of her head and she continued. "I'm going to move out." It's the first time she had said that out loud. She didn't even know she had been considering it.

"Really?" Dave asked.

"My friends Kristen and Dora are moving into an apartment. I'm going to move in with them," she said. She repeated the last sentence. She was really going to do it. She would call them from Luke's tomorrow.

"That's great, Lane," Dave said. "You need to do it."

She did need to. Otherwise, she wouldn't ever be able to socialize with friends, to play with the band whenever she wanted to, to work at Luke's whenever she wanted to. This way, she could be a normal college freshman.

Dora and Kristen would be thrilled.

Her mother would not be.

"My mother won't like it," she said. "But I'm going to do it."

"You'll be happier," Dave said. 

"I hope so," she said. 

She was really going to do this.

Dave turned to face her. "It'll be worth it."

A few seconds later, he kissed her softly, and she didn't know if it was meant to be a goodbye kiss, but she felt like it could have been.

"You're going to be okay, Lane," Dave said. "I can feel it."

"You're right," Lane said knowing it was true. "I will be."

The End


End file.
